


Honeymoon

by Osiris_Brackhaus (Rynthjan)



Series: Sir Yaden [11]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Malicorn, Pigs, Romance, phoenix empire, religious context
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-09 22:03:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynthjan/pseuds/Osiris_Brackhaus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colin's and Yaden's honeymoon leads them to Malicorn, the planet of beautiful beaches, fascinating locals and of course, bacon...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"And so, it is with greatest joy and deepest pleasure, that we welcome you here on Malicorn!"

Deafening applause erupted in the audience, people cheering and flash lights going off. Slightly taken aback at this overly cheery and very public welcome ceremony, Colin looked at his husband, fishing for Yaden's hand for reassurance. 

"Sir Colin, would you mind holding a piglet for the cameras?" the mayor of Malena, the capital of Malicorn, asked, his teeth brilliantly white in his tanned, youthful face. "Look here, it's very easy to hold, just like a baby." 

Not waiting for Colin's answer, someone pressed a warm, snoring piglet into his arms. It smelled faintly of coconut and bacon, and looked so blissfully happy and trusting it had to be high as a kite. Someone else made sure the flower garlands they had been given at the beginning of the ceremony were looking extra-luscious, and then they were once again grouped with the mayor and his wife for some more pictures. 

"It is so wonderful of you to spend your honeymoon here on Malicorn," the mayor insisted again, shaking Yaden's and Colin's hands once more. "I hope you two have a wonderful time here with your family, and if ever there is anything you need, please never hesitate to contact me directly." 

"Of course, Mayor," Yaden replied, seeming perfectly at ease in the situation. "But I am pretty sure that won't be necessary. Everyone's working so hard at making us feel welcome here, I can't imagine anything not being perfect."

In return, the mayor laughed, very pleased with Yaden's answer. An energetically handsome man of just over thirty years, he almost looked like a poster child for his planet himself - tanned and with a swimmer's body, the tips of his dark wavy hair bleached by the sun, smiling and laughing with genuine ease. His willowy and very blonde wife was like a lighter, swifter version of him. 

Some aide took the snoring piglet out of Colin's arm again, someone else gave him a bottle of wine and a whole bag of flyers and invitations, and then they were all gently guided into a large, elegant groundcar that had been waiting for them all the time. The crowd of journalists and tourists that had assembled on the steps of the town hall took their last photos, called for autographs of all of them. Colin still thought it entirely embarrassing that people treated him like a celebrity like his husband now, even though he had done nothing but falling in love with the right guy. But just like the PR team had instructed him, he smiled and signed basically everything handed to him, from collectible mugs to exposed and perfectly tanned six-pack abs. 

Colin Dracon, his signature read now. Sir Colin Dracon. 

From slave to noble in just three words. Yes, I do. 

What a luck he had practiced his new name countless times in his little shopping list notebook. And yet, the name still felt strange to him, much stranger than the all-black outfit he was wearing despite the warm sunshine. Only when the groundcar's heavy door closed behind them, he leaned back, closing his eyes, and groaned softly. At least, now that he was no longer a slave, there would be no more of Yaden's guilty looks every morning when he put his slave collar back on after the shower. 

"Are you alright, love?" his husband asked, still waving at the crowd outside while the car slowly rolled away. "Colin?"

"I'm okay," Colin replied, sitting up straight again. "It's just a little much. We don't have any more public appearances today, do we?"

"No." Smiling calmly, Yaden took Colin's hand. "Just us, a peaceful dinner and an early night." 

"So you're going to make Colin scream again all night?" Myriam asked, awkwardly fingering her black pullover. "Thank god for headphones." 

"Myriam!" Darren's voice from the passenger seat in front cut through the car. "Manners." 

As if he had pulled on an invisible string, her mouth snapped shut. Visibly struggling with a stroppy answer, she none the less managed to keep her mouth shut. 

"Was that a real piglet you were holding on stage?" Ivan asked, deflecting from Myriam's silence. "It looked so blissed out..."

"It was real, I think," Colin replied. "It was snoring." 

"That's kinda cute," Ivan replied with very little of his usual sarcasm. Even Myriam smiled at the image. 

Right then, their car was turning left and onto the beachfront promenade of Malena, heading out of town and towards the mansion that had been rented for them for the next few weeks. They passed an immense wall of slanted ceramsteel panels, glaringly white in the sunlight. 

"That's it?" Ivan asked excitedly, and Myriam perked up, too. "That's the monastery?" 

"Yep," Darren confirmed from the front seat. "The Saint Cornelius monastery. Just don't let him hear you call it that, he's still insisting he ain't no saint."

Ivan, Myriam and Yaden eyed the massive walls with fascination. Sending them to Malicorn right after the wedding had been the idea of the PR team. For one, it would coincide with the annual bacon harvest next week, giving them ample opportunity for countless press occasions all over the place. And second, it would be the perfect cover for them to learn more about N'bosoti and how to fight them, from the only man who had any substantial expertise in the field - Saint Cornelius himself. 

Colin felt slightly sick every time he thought about it. 

Saint Cornelius was a saint, dammit, in every way Colin was concerned. And that he himself had invited Yaden and his team, explicitly including Colin, to come to his monastery to train, was just a tad too much for Colin. Of course, it was a great honor and a great opportunity. And after what had happened aboard the Pebble on their last mission, Colin sure would accept every little help he could get. 

But did it have to be a living saint right from the very start?

\---

"Oh," Yaden said, his pleasant surprise clearly audible. "You're shorter than I thought."

Maybe not the first thing you'd normally say to a living saint, but then again, pretty much nothing about their visit here was normal, was it? 

Saint Cornelius had already been waiting for them when they arrived in the spacious courtyard of the monastery, the dust and noise of the city locked out by massive gates in the titanic walls. Saint Cornelius was well over sixty years by now, but it hardly showed. His round face was lined, yes, and his short, strawberry-blond hair and beard were tinged with grey. But his gray eyes glinted with an alacrity that would have been impressive even on a younger man, and that he wore a full ceram-steel plate armor out here in the full Malicorn summer sun with perfect nonchalance spoke of a fitness that was way beyond any normal measure. 

Saint Cornelius took a generous moment to look Yaden up and down, not impressed by him being a Phoenix Knight in the slightest. 

"You're shorter than I thought, too," he said, his voice surprisingly deep and rumbling. "And scrawny." 

Yaden shrugged with a smile. "So far, I could make up for that with sheer stubbornness." 

Saint Cornelius laughed, not loud, but honest and full of good-natured humor. "Come on," he ordered casually and waved them to follow. Not waiting for any answer, he turned around and left for the far corner of the yard, clearly a man utterly used to being obeyed without question. 

Yaden turned around, still smiling, and then followed Saint Cornelius, Ivan and Myriam directly behind. Colin needed a moment longer, not feeling quite at the right place. Who was he to talk to Saint Cornelius? But in the end, it didn't matter what he thought. Saint Cornelius had asked him explicitly to come here, and so that's what Colin would do. Even if he really didn't feel like it. 

In the far corner, Father Cornelius passed through a narrow covered passage between two houses that barely looked wide enough for him and his armor. For a moment, they all followed him through the gloomy shadow, but then the passage opened into another courtyard. This one was small, barely thirty feet across, wedged in between two buildings and the outer fortifications. There was a huge tree growing in the corner of the yard, its canopy wide enough to cover the yard in pleasant shade. One of the outer walls featured a simple fountain, a clear stream of water running into a small, rectangular basin on the ground, its surface dark and smooth. 

After the buzz and garish colors of Malicorn, this place felt like a blessing. 

"Sit down," Saint Cornelius ordered, pointing at the ground. He himself basically dropped where he was standing, smiling at the gathered family. "So you fought one of the ancient evil, and survived to tell the tale. Good. Commendable."

"I wasn't there," Myriam volunteered instantly. "But I want to learn how to kick bug butt, too." 

"Then shut up and listen," Cornelius replied, brief but actually rather kindly. "I gather one of you scared the beast, didn't you?" 

"It scared us pretty good," Yaden said as Colin didn't reply immediately. "My squire Ivan and I were just running on fear and instinct, but Colin here, my husband, could keep his wits about him."

"Good, good," Cornelius replied. "It is healthy to fear them, it shows you are smart enough to recognize the bad guys. But it gets a little less bad every time you meet them, until it only takes a deep breath and you can think normally again." 

"YOU were afraid?" Myriam asked, incredulous. "Really?"

Saint Cornelius nodded. "As I said. Beware those who do not fear the ancient evil, 'cause they ain't much better."

"Duly noted," Ivan said. "So the fear can be overcome, yes?"

"It takes training, but yes."

"And then, how do we kill them?" 

"Rarely. But there are ways." Cornelius chuckled, a mean little sound speaking of A LOT of experience in that regard. "I am afraid your psionics won't be much help, there, though."

"I noticed that," Yaden agreed grimly. "He almost completely drained me just trying to keep him immobile."

"Impressive you managed to hold him at all," Cornelius remarked. "They are completely immune to direct psionics and most supernatural powers. They fear them to the point of phobia, though." 

"That doesn't make much sense," Ivan remarked. 

"Not to us, no. But they are not like us." 

"But how can they be completely immune?" Yaden asked. "Even the strongest psion can be caught unaware, and even a mage can be stripped of his spells."

"And?" Cornelius seemed utterly nonplussed. "Stop seeing them as human. THEY ARE NOT. They are the oldest race there is, coming right after the gods, and probably long before time and causality. They don't have to play by your rules."

For a moment, all four of them remained silent, only to start asking questions all at once. 

"Gods?" Colin asked, incredulous. "More than one?"   
"Before causality? How's that even supposed to work?" Myriam, just as disbelieving.   
"Our rules?" Ivan asked, curious. "Do you have different ones?" 

Cornelius laughed out loud at the outburst.

"Alright, one after the other," he said, starting with Colin. "Yes, gods, plural. The guys who made this universe. big, powerful, batshit crazy. Ours doesn't seem to be one of them, though, but fuck me sideways if I know what that is supposed to mean."

Myriam burst into giggles at his choice of words, not quite managing to hide her expression behind her hands. 

"And you, little smart-ass, yes, pre-causality. Ask Beverly what that means, I am no scientist. She will tell you, but I can't promise you'll understand one word of it. Tell her I said hi." 

At the mention of the legendary Nosoti scientist, Myriam's eyes grew wide. But Cornelius didn't pay her attention any longer. 

"And I really like your train of thought, Squire Ivan," he continued. "Yes, my rules, indeed. N'bosoti only fear two things. Psionics, which is silly, and gods, which is only healthy. As a psion, your bet is with indirect attacks and massive firepower. Theoretically, they might become vulnerable to your psi once they believe you can hurt them, but I've still not seen anyone to pull that off."

By now, all of them silent with concentration, trying to come up with the next smart question. 

"Never think you can outsmart them, they are the universe's blueprint for brilliance. N'bosoti have shit luck, though, and that has always worked in our favour," Cornelius continued explaining. "So everything that distracts them and fouls their tech will work nicely."

"Like the bad luck of us having Colin aboard," Yaden said, smiling proudly. 

"Absolutely." Father Cornelius nodded with a wicked grin, turning his attention to Colin for the first time. "I heard you spouted some phrase in Youh'Kai, didn't you?" 

"I did," Colin replied, clearing his throat as his voice caught. "I did, Father. I don't really know what I said, but I think I called him a fucking squet." 

"Let me guess," Cornelius suggested, "you said 'Dar'nam sat, g'dani squet!', didn't you?" 

"I don't know..." Colin replied, but was cut off by Ivan. 

"That's it, exactly!" Ivan interjected eagerly. "What does it mean?"

Saint Cornelius hesitated for a moment, then explained: "It's kinda hard to translate right. The long version would probably be 'Not in this place that I protect, you fucking vermin with delusions of grandeur!'. It's much more vulgar in Youh'Kai, though." 

"That pretty much sums up what I was feeling in that moment..." Colin admitted. "How did you know what I said?"

"I guessed. When I heard you were fighting one of the most perfect organic killing machines with nothing but a broken broom and came out winning, the parallels were hard to ignore."

"Parallels?" Colin asked, already dreading the answer. 

"There is a legend among the Youh'Kai, about their goddess of hearth and home, Ynagra." Cornelius started to elaborate. "She was attacked by the sons of the god of war, and tried to protect those under her care. Armed with nothing but a broom, she battled them from dusk till dawn, and emerged victorious. Never before had the sons of Cor'Garun been bested in battle, and never since."

"That sounds familiar, indeed," Ivan remarked, quietly impressed. 

"'Dar'nam sat, g'dani squet!, is what she said to her assailants," Cornelius continued. "And it is the line priests of Ynagra recite when they have no hope left, other than sacrificing themselves and hoping that it will be enough." 

"I am not a priest," Colin objected feebly.

"Ynagra doesn't seem to care." Surprisingly sympathetic, Cornelius gave an encouraging nod to Colin. "I have a priest of Ynagra in my service, here in the monastery. Talk to K'gosi, I think you will find his beliefs are yours already. He will see you whenever you are ready." 

A little scared, Colin cast a glance to Yaden, only to find his husband smiling warmly at him. 'I love you', he mouthed voicelessly, and Colin knew that for him, he would do everything. Even talking to some alien priest, after a veritable living saint has told him he was following an alien goddess he hadn't even heard of until today. 

"I will, Father Cornelius," Colin replied as gracefully as he could. "As soon as I am ready."

\---

"Oh my God! Ivan? Ivan!" Myriam's voice yelled all across the park. "Ivan you must help me!"

Ivan gave Yaden and Colin a smirk and a shrug, then he dashed off across the well-tended lawn to the crypt Myriam was excitedly bobbing up and down in front of. 

Colin seized the moment of relative calm to sneak his arm into his husband's, and lean against him for a moment. He almost managed to ignore the excited murmur of the photographers that followed them in a polite distance. 

"It is a beautiful park, they were right about that..." he started, not really sure how to word the weird feeling the whole scenery was giving him. "I am not so sure about all the monuments for dead pigs everywhere." 

"What did you expect?" Yaden replied calmly, but with a mischievous grin. "It is the Field of Heroes, in the shadow of the Swinodrome... How is that supposed to work without pigs?"

With a sigh, Colin looked up the huge stadium that bordered to the park and loomed above them at the horizon. "Of course there have to be pigs... It's just - I didn't think there were so many. And so obvious..."

"Damn, those were the biggest balls I've ever seen," Myriam stated firmly, returning with Ivan in tow. "Big as melons, those things, I wonder how he was able to walk at all."

Both Colin and Yaden looked at Ivan, searching for help. 

"No, seriously," Ivan confirmed, laughing. "That's the grave of 'Orzac the Fertile', and they have his balls pickled in a jar behind glass so everyone can look at them." 

"It was too high up for me," Myriam added. "Ivan had to lift me up a little so I could see them, too. Kinda gross, but really cool." 

Colin had to swallow a few choice comments on Malinos in general and their obsession with pigs in particular, but he managed. "This planet really is very far from my home." 

"Don't you have snail farmers on Leichnam?" Myriam asked, already looking for the next mausoleum between the trees. "I remember reading something about those. They love their snails, too, don't they?" 

"Oh, they do, absolutely," Colin replied. "They just would never show it like... this. And besides, we didn't have snails where I grew up, it was too far north for that. We had lobsters." 

"Really?" Now it was Ivan who seemed curious. "You had snails in the movie..."

"Yeah, and we all know how much truth there is in that one." Colin grimaced painfully. "Yaden was there when we had our lobster match." 

"It was really something," Yaden joined the discussion. "And quite scary." 

"So - two villages, each bring one lobster, the lobsters fight and the villages get to eat the loser and the winner is set free?" Ivan asked. 

"Absolutely." 

"One lobster for two villages?" Myriam didn't seem entirely convinced. "Really?"

"Leichnam lobsters, dear," Yaden interjected. "As tall as you, and that's before they rear up and raise their claws to scare their opponent." 

For a moment, Myriam was silent, and even Ivan seemed impressed with the image of two lobsters the size of oxens dueling to the death on a village fair. 

"Yeah, that might be enough for two villages," she finally conceded. But already a heartbeat later, she was distracted by another sight. "Oh look, ice-cream! Can I have one?"

Between the thick, gnarled trunks of the trees, a pink-and-white striped cart appeared, already crowded with children of various ages. Above the cart, a small flag fluttered in the breeze, showing the unofficial mascot of Malicorn - Grinny Pig, a smiling pig with the disconcerting tendency to eat himself. 

"Sure," Yaden replied before Colin could say anything. "But only if you get me one as well!"

Instantly, Myriam ran off. 

"Try to take something without bacon!" Colin called after her, shaking his head. "Does she even have money on her?"

"I'll go with her and pay, if needed," Ivan said, smiling. "You two keep on walking and looking pretty, so the PR team will be happy and allows us a few more days training with Saint Cornelius."

This time, both Colin and Yaden grimaced simultaneously. 

But as soon as Ivan had turned his back, Yaden nudged his husband, pointing at his squire and their daughter. 

"I can't really believe how the two of them have bonded," Yaden said, amazed and proud at the same time. "It's like they really are brother and sister." 

Colin nodded calmly, pulling his arm a little tighter around Yaden. "They are good for each other, and they both feel it." 

"We're a real family, now, aren't we?" 

Still smiling, Colin nodded. 

"Are you happy?" Yaden asked, obviously not really sure what answer he would get. 

"I am," Colin replied. "It's very different from everything I ever expected, and way too dangerous, but, yes, I am happy." Now he turned around to Yaden and kissed him, just a tiny kiss on the lips. "Thank you." 

"COLIN?!" Myriam called from behind them, loud enough to startle a few birds who had been dozing in the trees. "Lard isn't bacon, is it?" 

"I hate this planet," Colin whispered, smiling, before he shouted his reply. "I am coming, love!"


	2. Chapter 2

"Sir Colin?" 

Colin looked up from the magazine he was reading, blinking at the young Youh'Kai who was standing in front of him. He was wearing a keikogi, the traditional white training outfit of the Belligra, looking quite striking with his pale blue skin and artfully braided, long blue hair. His ivory bone ridges were heavily scarred despite his apparent age, and he bore himself with calm confidence. 

"Yes?" Colin asked. "Is everything okay? Has something happened at the training?" 

"Your family is fine," the Youh'Kai replied with a mildly amused smile. "I am Father K'gosi."

So this was the priest of Ynagra that Saint Cornelius had been talking about. He looked so very different from what Colin had expected that he hadn't even considered him to be the man he was waiting for. 

"I am sorry, I just didn't expect someone so young..." Colin said, smiling apologetically. "Here, please, have a seat."

The Youh'Kai sat down at Colin's table and took a moment to observe the people milling up and down the Rasher, the beachfront promenade of Malena. They were meeting at the 'Burning Beetle', a large and surprisingly popular bar and restaurant serving traditional Youh'Kai food with a Malino twist - mostly by adding bacon, naturally. 

"I am older than I look," K'gosi explained, quite obviously used to Colin's reaction. "And priesthood among the Youh'Kai has very little to do with training, but with devotion." 

Colin hesitated a moment, insecure about what to say. He wasn't even sure what he was trying to get out of this conversation. 

"Father Cornelius told my she listens to you, doesn't she?" K'gosi asked. 

"I don't know," Colin replied. "I mean, everyone tells me so, but I haven't heard of her until two days ago. I am not even a very religious person." 

"Not?" K'gosi sounded doubtful. "You humans often confuse 'being faithful' with 'believing in the church'."

"It's not the same?" Colin felt exposed, and a little angry at being so at a loss with the whole thing. "I am sorry, Father, but I am a baker. I know things about yeast that will put almost anyone else to sleep instantly. I know nothing about gods." 

Luckily, right then the cute waitress appeared, distracting at least a little from how edgy he was. With a bright smile, she handed Father K'gosi his menu and set down a plate of salad and grilled beetles in front of Colin. After a short look, K'gosi ordered something else from the grill, extra hot, and insisted he could stand the proper spicing, not the usual version for fa'lang. 

Smiling, he turned back at Colin, his teeth pearly white and disconcertingly pointy. 

"Forget the church," he said, clearly aware that his words were treading dangerously close to heresy. "This is between you and Ynagra, and no one else." Seeing that Colin relaxed at least a little, he continued explaining. "The Young God of the human church and our Elder Gods are different, not only culturally, but also 'technically'. Yours is more abstract, while ours are, essentially, people."

Colin took a bite of his salad, but only after carefully striping the small legs off his meat with his fork as he had seen other patrons do. It was surprisingly tasty, exotic and grounded him sufficiently to face this lecture in alien theology. 

"The Elder Gods generally don't care for formality. They are about resonance, similarity, and strength of will and purpose." 

Still chewing, Colin tried to understand how this was supposed to make sense out of what had happened aboard the Pebble. "So you say, if I act like one of your gods, they notice?"

K'gosi weighed his head, hesitating for a heartbeat before he answered. "When you FEEL like one of them, they listen. Each of our gods has certain characteristics, aspects of life that they embody perfectly. The closer one comes to embody that concept, the closer you become to your god, to the point that they will help you out in a tight spot."

"This sounds as if she would have helped anyone in that situation? I mean, you seem so very relaxed about me being a human. Shouldn't your gods help your people?" 

This time, K'gosi laughed, heartily and without a trace of condescension. "We are so far below the gods, I think we're pretty much the same kind of speck of dirt to them. You being a human might sit pretty hard with some Youh'Kai, naturally. But I don't think it will matter in the end. Because - if Ynagra thinks you are worthy of her aid, it means you and I share the same values. We offer a place of safety and nurture to our loved ones, and fight unconditionally to protect them. I already know that I can trust your word almost more than my own, and under that light, our ancestry becomes pretty much irrelevant."

"How can you be so sure it was your goddess who intervened?"

"Because you confirmed you were one of us with the very first words you said to me," K'gosi replied with another laugh. "I could have come for any reason, but the first thing you asked was 'Is my family all right?'"

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Colin nodded. It was weird and scary, all this talk about gods and faith and miracles. But it also offered him contact to people who shared his feelings. Looking across the table at K'gosi, he realized that he would trust him, too. They would both unthinkingly put their families' lives before their own, and their greatest fear was failing in their duty. It was an oddly reassuring feeling that he wasn't alone with his convictions, and flattering that it came with a title of respect and recognition. 

"So... What do I have to do now?" Colin asked.

"There is nothing you 'have to do'," K'gosi replied, his face splitting in a wide, toothy grin as he saw his lunch approaching. "She believes in you, it's as easy as that." Cleaning their table in front of him, he made space for his plate, and took off the shirt of his training outfit. His skin was the colour of blueberry ice-cream all over, scarred and marked in countless ways, sinewy muscle moving underneath. "I really think you may want to learn more about her, and more about her followers. It'll show you how to come closer to her, and get a feeling for situations she will help you in."

"You mean - I could learn to trigger her miracles?" Colin asked, incredulously. 

"Sure," K'gosi replied. "You can't force the hand of a god any more than you can change the way yeast grows, can you? But you can create circumstances where yeast will do exactly what you need."

A bit taken aback at this very apt image, Colin watched in silence as two waiters brought some kind of hard-shelled, round creature the size of a football on a bed of burning coals to their table, setting the whole thing down in front of K'gosi. The creature's back had been split open, and inside some sort of red sauce was bubbling. It smelled good, almost hypnotically spicy, but also so hot it made Colin's eyes water from across the table. With feral appetite, K'gosi broke the creature further apart with his hands, some of the sauce running into the coals and turning into biting smoke. Chuckling softly, he tore off some of the shell, and bit into the flesh clinging to its inside with visible relish. 

"Oh damn, this is good," he said after a moment of blissed-out chewing. "They breed there own beetles here in the caves of the Sovarian hills, did you know that? The only way of getting better ones is a pilgrimage to Far'Gesh."

"I think I am appropriately impressed," Colin replied, equally fascinated and scared by this display of Youh'Kai manners that for a change were not tuned down to conform with human expectations. His own salad seemed positively timid in comparison. 

"You really should talk to her, I think," K'gosi suggested while digging inside his food with some sort of long, two-pronged fork. "It might make things less confusing for you." 

"Goodness, no!" it burst out of Colin instantly. "How is that supposed to calm me? What if she answers?"

K'gosi grinned through the smoke of his dish, his face smeared with sauce and very predatory. "Talk to her. When you work for your family and feel close to her, just talk to her. If she answers, all the better." Again, he weighed his head, his grin even widening a notch. "You will see, there is nothing for you or your family to fear. Everyone else... they'd better watch out."

\---

Even at one o'clock in the night, the Rasher was crawling with people. Not as many as during the day, but still. It was fascinating so see throngs of revelers exiting one pub only to enter another a few buildings further down the street. Families sitting in the restaurants, talking and laughing loudly over the remains of their long-eaten dinners, little children asleep on their laps. Lovers walking down Malena's beachfront promenade, hand in hand, silently enjoying each other in the balmy air of a Malino summer night, with cool air coming in from the sea and the ever-present smell of frying bacon from the other side. 

One of those couples were Yaden and Colin, taking a walk from their hotel towards the St. Cornelius Cathedral. Myriam and Ivan had fallen asleep, both a bit exhausted with the activities of the day and filled with way too much food. Colin had warned them not to eat too many of those piggy-sandwiches from the hotel's bar, but it had been a lost battle from the very beginning. 

So, when their suite had fallen silent and the heat of the day gave way to a nice breeze, Yaden had asked his husband out for a walk. It was a beautiful summer night, now that the place was a little less rowdy, a little less crass and crowded. Everywhere, locals were putting up decorations for the bacon harvest that would start tomorrow, festooning the houses with endless garlands of red-and-white striped paper, with Malicorn flags and bundles of blissfully grinning little plastic piglets. Others were setting up barbecue stands in front of their houses, with chairs and tables lining the roads as if the whole area had turned into one big family gathering. The feeling of anticipation and hospitality was almost tangible, something Yaden was very sure Colin would be enjoying tremendously. 

But when he looked over to his husband, he found Colin looking rather melancholic, sad, even. 

"What's wrong, dear?" he asked, surprised and concerned at the same time. 

Colin blinked at him, having been completely lost in his thoughts, and then gave him a happy-sad smile and an apologetic shrug. "Sorry, love. It's just... I am so happy to have a family, and to be here with you. I just wish my other family could have been here with us, too."

His 'other family', his blood relatives from Leichnam, were either dead or had moved away with no luck in finding them, Yaden knew. He had personally called in a few favours with the intelligence staff of the Phoenix Knight Tower to find Colin's aunt Madeline and her son Michael. But they seemed to have been swallowed by the earth when they moved away from Schimmelbach shortly after Yaden had taken Colin with him to P2. Colin had grown up with his aunt after his mother had died in a zombie outbreak when he was sixteen. That she couldn't be with them at their wedding had been the only flaw of the day, but of course it would haunt Colin not to know how an important part of his family was doing right now. 

"We will find them, one day," Yaden reassured him. "People have the weird tendency never to disappear for good, you know?."

"I am beginning to believe that," his husband replied with a smile. "Weird things tend to happen around Phoenix Knights, don't they?"

Instead of a reply, Yaden just gave him a shrug and a guilty smile. 

"Madeline would have loved this," Colin went on, gesturing at the preparations for the bacon harvest. "I think she hated the rain and the dour people on Leichnam even more than my mother." 

A screaming group of kids suddenly ran past them, all wielding inflatable toy hammers and whacking each other in some complicated game of catch that seemed to be mostly about shouting and running. Following them with his eyes, Colin asked: "How many kids would you want?" 

"Huh?" Yaden had never really thought about this, but his feelings were pretty clear. "I don't know. Many, I'd say."

"Good." Colin replied simply, snuggling closer to his husband. "Right answer." 

For a while, both of them walked down the Rasher in comfortable silence, smiling and nodding politely at the folks who recognized and greeted them. 

"I talked to that priest, today," Colin said suddenly. "You know, that Youh'Kai priest Saint Cornelius was talking about."

"And?" 

"He seems convinced I am a priest of Ynagra, can you believe it?" Giving as slightly exasperated sigh, Colin added: "He says with a little practise, I could learn how to work miracles." 

In Yaden's eyes, those were great news, but he could also understand why his husband sounded so apprehensive. Colin had been a baker, a craftsman with all his heart. He had been happy with being the town's baker in Hagermarsch, a respected and stable part of the local community. As much as he loved Yaden, being ripped out of that had been a harsh shock for him, and it had taken him a long time to understand that that particular part of his life was over for good. Colin had barely settled into his new role as leader of their little family, their household. Being connected to some kind of alien deity definitely was forcing him to rearrange his world once again. 

"I am sorry, but to me, that sounds like a good thing," Yaden replied, trying to sound as reassuring as he could. 

"Oh, it IS a good thing," Colin replied, his voice a little edgy. "It means I just MIGHT learn how to be not completely useless when it comes to fighting. That I have at least a chance of keeping you alive despite the job you have. That I can join you on some of your missions and not just sit at home, wondering if you are still alive or not." With a sigh from the depths of his heart, he added: "It just scares the shit out of me." 

Having to sit at home, helplessly waiting for news, was a problem Yaden could understand only too well. But hearing Colin complaining about being scared was so absurd he couldn't help but give a mean chuckle. 

"What's so funny?" Colin snapped, his dark eyes sparkling with indignation. 

"Dear, maybe you think you are afraid," Yaden replied, still grinning. "But you are a lot less afraid than that N'bosoti you kicked off the Pebble. Of course there IS a lot of scary shit out there, but never forget that they are much more afraid of you."

"They'd better be," Colin mumbled, realizing that indeed, this particular memory was a pretty good one. He really liked the thought of monsters being afraid of him. And if he had to become the follower of some alien goddess to protect his family this effectively, it would be a small price to pay. 

"The things we do for love..." he muttered, shaking his head. "I'll need more training."


	3. Chapter 3

"Uh... Master Darren?"

The soft-spoken question barely managed to penetrate the comfortable haze of Darren's afternoon poolside nap. 

"You are Master Darren, aren't you?" the voice asked again, gently. 

Darren opened a single eye and was almost instantly awake. 

Right next to him, an alien was standing, smiling politely, two of her four hands folded in an unmistakeably shy gesture. With her long head and round teeth, she looked a bit like a herbivore terran dinosaur, an impression only enhanced by her massive body and long, sinuous tail. The two huge feet somehow ruined the imagery, though, as did the pilot's leather cap on her head and the carpet bag she was wearing over her right shoulders. 

She looked instantly trustworthy and kind, a notion that Darren found astonishing even though he knew he had nothing to fear. There was only one race known to mankind that looked like this, and only one member that would appear in public here on Malicorn. 

"Lady Beverly - " he managed to get out, his voice sounding surprisingly composed in his ears despite being in the presence of the only publicly named Nosoti. "What an honour." 

"No, no, the honour is all mine," she replied eagerly, "I've read all you wrote about psion nutrition. Mostly for the recipes, though, but still. That is - if you are Master Darren, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am Darren," he replied with a laugh. Already he felt charmed by the alien, mostly by the way she didn't make him feel awkward even though he was wearing nothing but heinously orange board shorts. "You wanted to speak to Yaden, right? He's at the monastery, training, all afternoon - "

"I know." Smiling, Beverly waved her head from one side to another, apparently signifying another bout of insecurity. "I came for you." 

"For me?" Startled, Darren sat up in the lounger he had been lying in. While tutoring Yaden, he had been privy to a lot of facts that normally were off-limits to everyone but the highest nobles. A briefing on Nosoti, among others. They were to be considered the good guys, powerful and knowledgeable beyond comprehension, allies and with the same security clearance as the Emperor himself. Definitely way beyond the paygrade of a former gladiator and glorified nanny. "How can I help you?"

"Oh, you've done so much already, for Yaden and his family, and humanity, you know?" Smiling in a way that looked positively star-struck, she reached out and took one of Darren's hands. "See, you're doing a good job, and a very important one. And we just... I just wanted to tell you that we know just HOW important a job it is you are doing, even if maybe no one else will ever know." 

"I... just raised a boy." Darren said, struggling to understand what he was hearing. Was there really one of the most powerful creatures that humanity had ever met shaking his hand to congratulate him for not fucking up Yaden's childhood any more than it had already been? "It's what anyone else would have done in my place."

Now Beverly cocked her head, looking at him with a single eye, clearly showing that she didn't really buy his last comment but was way too polite to disagree. Darren suddenly remembered that it had been Lady Beverly who had lived as a human for many years, and only revealed her true nature when the N'bosoti returned shortly before the beginning of SW II. If she thought that Darren was doing something important and did a good job, she wasn't entirely unqualified. Still, he didn't feel as if he had done anything special. 

"Well, lets just say he would have turned out very different if it hadn't been for you," Lady Beverly said politely. "But no proper thank you without a little gift, so I have brought a little something for you." 

"That really wouldn't have been necessary, Ma'am," Darren interjected, feeling a little embarrassed. 

"If it were necessary, it wouldn't be a gift, would it?" she asked in return, smiling cheekily. "But I think I figured out something really useful to give to you. I would like to give you our blessing." 

That sounded a lot less scary than many of the other options, Darren found. But then again, this was a veritable Nosoti he was talking to, and their words carried a lot more power than any other creature's. 

"That is very generous of you..." he replied hesitantly. "Do I have to do anything special?"

"No." Again smiling cheekily, she also took the other one of Darren's hands. "You shouldn't abuse it, but then again, we all already know you'd never do that." 

"Abuse what?" Darren asked.

"The blessing," she replied, obviously needed a moment to understand the reason behind Darren's question. Then, she suddenly smiled widely, showing her brilliantly white, round teeth. "But I think I ought to tell you what to expect now, shouldn't I?" 

"That would be kind, yes." 

Beverly let go of Darren's hands and nodded contently. "Done. From this day on, no one will ever doubt your word. Unless, of course, you're talking absolute bullshit, that is." 

"What?"

"I know, it's nothing big," she explained. "But it is very useful. No more arguing about bedtimes, or the necessity of homework..." 

Blinking, Darren tried to grasp what had just happened. Together with what he had learned about the N'bosoti, her blessing made stunning sense. 

"Is it - Are we talking about the opposite of the fear that N'bosoti strike in all living creatures?" Darren asked, incredulous. "Is it that? If fear is the Curse of the N'bosoti, the Blessing of the Nosoti is trust, then?" 

A wide, almost proud smile grew in Beverly's alien but very expressive face. "You're a very smart one, Master Darren. Your presence now elicits as much trust as a N'bosoti would cause fear."

"But - shouldn't you reserve that for your own kind? I mean, it's the blessing of the Nosoti, after all."

This time, Lady Beverly laughed out loudly. "But why would we bless ourselves? That would be greedy, really, and we don't need another blessing. Nope, our blessing is to be given away to whom we want. To people who carry more of the world on their shoulders than they would believe themselves."

"I still think you got the wrong guy," Darren replied, "but thank you, Milady." 

"Ah, never mind. It's just a little something to tweak the odds." Looking over Darren's shoulder at the bar, she gave a low, longing sigh. "Do you know if the milkshakes here are any good? It's been ages since I had my last proper milkshake." 

"I can't really say, but if it's any measure, Yaden and Myriam love the raspberry and sweet chestnut shake." 

"That sounds delicious," Beverly almost purred. Turning her attention back to Darren for a moment, she said: "Please, never hesitate to call me if ever you need any help. Really. Just have the psions' guild patch you through, I'll always have time for you." 

"That is very generous, Milady." Despite still sitting in his pool lounger, Darren tried to give his best impression of a deep bow. "I hope I'll never have to take you up on the offer."

"Wisely spoken, indeed," Lady Beverly replied. "And now, if you don't mind, there's a milkshake waiting for me." 

With a polite tip to her hat, Lady Beverly walked off towards the bar at the far end of the pool. Her walk was rather a waddle than a walk, though, but Darren found that expression impolite. Her race wasn't built for walking as humans were, Nosoti were built for standing and grazing. The way she playfully dipped the tip of her tail into the pool while she walked along the edge made him smile. What a charming person.

With a fond smile, he watched while she ordered her milkshake and paid like every other customer. With the shake in one hand and two others rummaging in her carpet bag, she waddled out of the yard and into the hotel's lobby, acting just like any other tourist and creating about as much attention as one, too. 

Leaning back into his lounger, Darren closed his eyes for a moment. He had come a long way from being a simple gladiator back on Nabuco, he realized. 

And it felt really good. 

\---

"Ivan?! VANYA!" Myriam yelled through their suite. "Vanya, where in the seven hells ARE you?!"

"Wut?!" Startled, Ivan snapped upright from the couch where he had been dozing. For a moment, he blinked, disoriented, then his eyes fixed on Myriam's purple-painted face. "Good Lord, what the fuck happened to you, girl?"

"We need every man out on the street," Myriam said, explaining nothing. "It's a loosing battle out there, and we need every man." 

"What the fuck for?" Ivan asked, slowly getting properly awake. Why the fuck was his sister purple? "And who the hell are 'we'?" 

"For fighting the bacons," Myriam explained, slightly annoyed. "And 'we' are the eggplants." 

"Shouldn't we be fighting for the bacons, then?" Ivan asked, only slightly mocking her. After all, he wasn't particularly fond of his greens, at least not even remotely as fond as he was of his meat. "You know my attitude towards vegetables."

"We are heroes," Myriam stated firmly, leaving not even the trace of a chance for other options. "And we fight on the side of the underdogs. That is what heroes do." 

"Right..." It was obvious that he was fighting a lost battle himself, here, so Ivan relented. "Why are we fighting these dastardly bacons again?" 

Giving him a look that clearly showed that she thought him retarded, Myriam explained calmly: "It's the first night of the bacon harvest. It's bacon versus eggplants, trying to gain control over as much of downtown as possible." Her cute, eggplant-coloured face scrunched up in righteous anger. "I can't let the bacons get another win. They ALWAYS win." Pleading, she added: "With your help, we might stand a chance, this year." 

"Calm down, Myriam, of course I will come." Casting a questioning glance at Colin and Yaden who were comfortably making out in a comfy club chair in a corner and completely ignored everything around them, he added: "It's not as if we're going to be missed tonight. So we'll give those arrogant fatty slices a thorough beating, won't we?" 

"No beating," Myriam stated firmly, almost laughing at Ivan's visible disappointment. She held up a garishly coloured rubber hammer and hit herself repeatedly, causing the thing to give a tortured sqeak each time. "We hit them with THIS." 

"Oh please, you're fucking kidding me!" 

"Nope. It's not about hurting people. It's for fun. It'll be good, I promise." Grinning, she produced a second hammer, this one mostly red, and held it out for Ivan. "This one's yours." 

"I can't really believe I am doing this," Ivan said, taking the hammer. But it did sound like fun, like something normal people did. "But I am not going to paint my face like this."

"Of course you will," Myriam replied matter-of-factly. "How else will they know you're playing, and that you're playing for the eggplants?" 

With a deep sigh, Ivan rose from his couch nodding. Fighting a lost battle all the way. 

"I have to warn you, though," he replied, taking the small jar of face-paint from his new little sister. "I really suck at non-lethal combat." 

With a fiendish chuckle, Myriam agreed. "Don't worry. You're still better than anyone else. And if you run out of non-lethal moves - just don't move at all. It's only rubber hammers, after all." 

"True enough." Looking at the facepaint in his hands, he suddenly had an idea. "I'll need more of this." 

Raising a questioning eyebrow, Myriam was visibly delighted, whatever Ivan's plans were. 

"You know, sis, my 'iconic' outfit comes without a shirt, right? So if I go out there and make a fool of myself in front of thousands of tourists and the press of the whole Empire that's camping in front of our hotel, this better be good."

"So you say, eggplant all the way?" Myriam almost bounced with glee. "Including a bonnet?" 

Inwardly, Ivan rolled his eyes. "I already hate myself for asking. Bonnet?" 

"A green, little bonnet, with a green, little stem on top..." Myriam explained, enhancing her words with pretty neat gestures. "Makes you look like an eggplant, you know?"

That was as bad as he had feared. "As long as you wear one, too, sure. In for a milla, in for a credit." Shooing her on, Ivan added: "Now go, I think we're loosing the fight, we have no minute to waste!"

Instantly, Myriam dashed off and was already almost out of the suite when she turned around on her heels and came back. Ivan had just taken off his T-shirt and was about to start painting his face and throat. 

"What is it, sis? Need cash?" 

"Nope." Hesitating for a second, she smiled at him, shyly. "You know you're the best brother ever, you know that, yes?"

Completely at a lack of words, Ivan only smiled at her, barely managing a little, insecure shrug. 

But Myriam didn't seem expect him to say anything anyway. Instead, she just rushed forward and gave Ivan a fierce hug, leaving a purple smear of face-paint on his chest. 

"I just thought that needed to be said," she concluded. "You haven't heard that even remotely often enough." Smiling, she tipped her imaginary hat. "Back in a second, with bonnets and more facepaint."

And then, she dashed out of the suite. Ivan remained behind, a little jar of purple face-paint in his hand, smiling. It seemed he had found his real family, after all. 

\---

"Okay," Colin said loudly, even though he was completely alone in their suite. "I am supposed to talk to you, so... I am talking." 

Shaking his head at his own folly, Colin folded the sweater he had been holding and carried it over into Myriam's room. She was training at the monastery, right now, together with Yaden and Ivan, and of course they had left the place a complete mess. Both Ivan and Myriam admittedly had shreds of upbringing that made them at least try to clean up around themselves. Something that Yaden was completely lacking, unfortunately. 

So Colin had seized the moment of relative calm to walk through their suite, cleaning up and already making plans for the next week when they would be back on their island once again. Shawn had promised that the oven would have been cleaned and the doors renewed, so Colin could start a first firing and see if the oven needed any other repairs. But somehow, he doubted it. It was Moradi craftswork, after all, built to last a lifetime at the very least. 

Smiling, he put Myriam's sweater back into her drawer. 

At first, Colin had been quite against her joining the boys for training, and it had taken him a while to understand why. She already was a better fighter than Colin would ever be, and much better able to protect their family from any violence. And that, precisely, had been what had irked him so. Luckily, he had realized the cause for his disapproval before the whole affair could have turned ugly, and had relented, pressing Myriam into promising him that she would be careful. 

In the silence of their empty suite, Colin had first tried and get some rest, maybe read a book on the shaded balcony that overlooked the pool in the hotel's inner courtyard. But his disproportionate reaction still angered him. Was he really that envious that his daughter could go and fight with his husband, and he was just sitting there, wondering when they would come back? That just didn't feel right. He was angry, yes, and envious, but not about Myriam's abilities. 

Normally, this would have been the moment where he put on a new batch of bread dough. Kneading always helped calm his nerves, sort his mind and it was productive. But alas, he really wasn't going to bother the poor kitchen staff any more than he already had. So, instead he had taken up the next best thing to therapeutic baking - cleaning up. 

It hadn't taken much time until Colin realized that what bothered him most was the fact that while Yaden, Myriam and Ivan could just go and get someone to teach them how to improve their unique skills, he felt left alone. Of course, Father K'gosi would offer any help he could give, but Colin already knew he wouldn't have much to teach that he would actually want to learn. K'gosi could teach him about Youh'Kai customs, about stories featuring Ynagra and about her sacred holidays. But that wasn't what he needed. He needed training on how to get a connection with that goddess he was supposed to be following already. Unless he had that, no talk about miracles and rituals had any use. 

The only hint had been Father K'gosi's suggestion to talk to her. It still was a silly notion, Colin felt, but still. With the knot of anger in his stomach, he didn't even mind talking to an empty suite. 

"You know," he continued while gathering up some of the books that seemed to grow around Myriam like mushrooms on a wet meadow. "I think I should start by saying thank you. I mean, if that was really you who scared that... monster out of our ship, you saved our lives. That was pretty awesome." 

In his imagination, he could almost see Ynagra give him a tiny, slightly shy shrug and say 'You're welcome.'

"It's just - it won't be the last time we will need your help. I really don't want to sound ungrateful, or greedy. It's just - you know Yaden's job, don't you? He's taking all the risks so others won't have to. He'll need a lot of protection from you. From us." 

Somehow, Colin was sure she understood. Not like a great, celestial being that, in its infinite wisdom, acknowledged Colin's little worries. No, it felt as if he was talking to an old friend of his, who was just as worried and insecure about her family as he was about his. As if they were having a chat over a cup of coffee, and even though he wasn't currently looking at her, Colin knew exactly what kind of face she was making. 

A little creeped out by this oddly clear sensation, Colin looked over his shoulder. But he was alone, just by himself, talking loudly to an empty hotel suite. 

"Okay..." he said, hesitant. "So you are listening when I talk to you. Why should I believe you're a god, and not some sneaky psion having some mean fun with me?"

Instantly, Colin knew that his suspicion was unfounded. Since moving to P2, he had had tons of conversations with psions, and he knew how the thoughts of other people felt. This wasn't some sort of telepathy. It was much more subtle, wordless, and pretty much instantaneous. It was as if he had always known, and only now remembered. 

"You know I had to ask."

Better safe than sorry, Ynagra would have said, if she had been present. 

"So... how do I start? How do WE start? I mean, we have a lot of work ahead, and they need every bit of protection that we can - " 

Confused, Colin stopped mid-sentence, sitting down on the corner of Myriam's bed.

He knew that Yaden was fine. It wasn't just that he was pretty sure. He knew. Just like he knew that his feet were still attached to his legs without looking, he knew that Yaden was unharmed, and currently under no particular threat. Same with Myriam. Ivan was mostly fine, only a little damaged and doing something potentially dangerous, but he wasn't under any direct threat, either. 

\-- Psions' Guild? -- Colin thought firmly. -- Please patch me through to Sir Yaden. --

Being married to a Phoenix Knight definitely had its advantages. The Psions' Guild operator didn't even ask, instead Colin could sense him connecting to Yaden in less than a heartbeat. 

\-- Yes, love? -- he heard his husband's mental voice in his head. -- What's wrong? -- 

\-- I'm fine. Is Ivan currently doing a training fight or something like that? --

\-- He is indeed... How did you... --

\-- I'm figuring out a few things. -- Colin replied truthfully. -- I just wanted to see if I am right. I'll tell you the rest tonight. --

Intrigued but entirely unworried, Yaden sent him the image of a blown kiss and then dropped the connection, clearly trying to fully concentrate on Ivan's lesson. 

For a long moment, Colin stared at this new sensation in his head. It wasn't so much facts as knowledge, and nothing really specific. But it was very distinct information, and the longer he listened inside himself, the more he could tell. Colin could feel when Ivan was done with his round of training, his risk suddenly sinking markedly. Instead, Myriam started doing something potentially risky, though at a much more tempered level. Apparently, even the Belligra didn't put little girls through the same routines as they did with Phoenix Squires.

Somewhere in the back of Colin's mind, Ynagra smiled at him with another shy shrug. It starts with keeping tabs on them, she said. You'll never have to wonder again if they are in danger. Now, you will know. 

Thank you, Colin thought in a way that he thought would fit into this weird form of communication. It's the next step of carrying your family in your heart, isn't it? 

This time, Ynagra only smiled in agreement. 

Just as every time when thinking about his new family, Colin couldn't suppress a wistful thought about his other family, about his aunt Madeline and his cousin Michael who had disappeared without a trace. Only this time, he KNEW that they were still alive. Madeline was healthy and as safe as a human could possibly be. Michael was fine, but doing something at least as risky as training with the Belligra. 

Suddenly fighting tears, Colin realized what K'gosi had meant when he said being a priest of Ynagra was about being like her. It didn't mean Colin had to change - he had to become more like himself. Just the way the Youh'Kai did whatever they did with reckless abandon, their gods were unapologetically themselves. And in Colin's case, that meant loving, nurturing and protecting his family without hesitation or second thought. It meant doing the one thing Colin wanted more than anything else. 

And if K'gosi had been right, and this was the path for Colin to gain some supernatural firepower of his own - then those monsters should be afraid, indeed, very afraid. Because Colin fully intended to be anything but humble about this. No, he would wring every ounce of power out of this to flatten anyone who dared threatening those in his care. 

Still sitting on the bed, Colin smiled. And it was a smile just as disconcerting as any Youh'Kai's. Even without the pointy teeth.


End file.
